


salt and seaweed drape his heart

by ohallows



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Coda, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Introspection, Minor Dialogue, Stream of Consciousness, azu and cel are there but i feel bad tagging them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23812159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohallows/pseuds/ohallows
Summary: Zolf notices, is the thing. He might not be able to do anything with it, not really, because, well, see above, but. Hamid’s not as subtle as he thinks he is - or maybe he’s not trying to be subtle, and it just took Zolf longer than he thought to catch on. Whatever it is, Hamid’s acting… weird, specifically weird toward Zolf, and Zolf doesn’t know… what he did? He knows Hamid’s mad at him, or at least frustrated with him, for something, and hell, there’s a whole long laundry list somewhere of “Reasons To Be Mad At Zolf,” but… he’s not sure how to fix it. Or what set it off. Which straw broke the camel’s back, as it were.
Relationships: Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan & Zolf Smith
Comments: 27
Kudos: 84





	salt and seaweed drape his heart

**Author's Note:**

> YOU EVER HEAR SOMEONE SAY SOMETHING AND GO HUH this is why this exists i think i don’t even. this is less a fic and more me trying to work thru something. it’s more stream of consciousness than most stuff i write? i think? but anyway here. 
> 
> imma be honest idk what this is

Zolf has never been the best at talking. It’s just… okay, he can read a room fine, he knows when people are mad at him, knows how to  _ read  _ people, but there’s a difference between  _ knowing  _ someone’s upset at you and actually doing something about it. 

(Normally, Zolf doing something about it makes it  _ worse,  _ not because he’s not trying but because he’s, well.  _ Not good at talking.) _

Even as a kid he hadn’t been great at talking. Feryn had always understood what he was trying to say, even when Zolf struggled to express it himself, but he was an outlier. Their parents had never really  _ gotten  _ that Zolf didn’t want to be stuck in a sleepy mining town all his life, but Feryn had. Not like any of  _ that  _ matters anymore, not when they’re all dead. 

He’d gotten a  _ bit _ better in the navy, mostly because everyone seemed to be a bit cut from the same cloth, as it were. Most of the soldiers Zolf worked for were from poor families, just  _ kids  _ working their way to a better lot in life. Zolf was just a kid himself, even if it was easier for him to hide it behind a personality mostly built on gruffness, but it was easier to talk, with them. In the navy, hurt feelings got settled with a friendly brawl or buying each other a pint at the least-seedy tavern they could find whenever they docked next. No one on the ship had time for lengthy emotional conversations about the state of the world and their place in it, they were all too busy worried about dying at sea and having to reckon with whatever came next.

The pirates were different. A similar group of people, yes, but there’s something about running from the meritocracy and putting your lives on the line for something other than someone else’s cause that helps you actually  _ bond.  _ They were… more free with affection, too, whether it was kissing Zolf on top of his head or re-braiding his beard or throwing an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into hugs when they were pissed beyond belief. Zolf hadn’t really - okay, he’d  _ enjoyed _ the affection and gotten used to it, the breakdown seemed to be when  _ he  _ tried to do it  _ back _ . It wasn’t… bad or anything, it was just - well, awkward. None of them had seemed to care though, and Zolf had just rolled with it, and maybe he found a family there too, among the whiskey and the shanties and the thievery. 

He left before long, though, parted on good terms with secretly-teary goodbyes, and set off to form his own mercenary company, with new people who had different ideas about affection, and maybe it took Zolf a bit too long to really  _ get  _ that everyone’s different (well, he  _ got  _ it, but there’s a difference between  _ theory  _ and  _ putting it into practice _ , and Zolf’s always been bad at the latter).

That’s - that’s old news, for the most part, eighteen-month-old or more, and that’s not even the  _ point  _ of all of this anymore, but it’s helpful  _ context,  _ because. Well. Zolf’s  _ trying.  _ And, he supposes, trying isn't always good enough? For some people? Was good enough for Sasha, he thinks, but. Doesn’t matter much, now, considering… everything. 

Maybe it  _ is  _ the point. Gods. He doesn’t even  _ know  _ anymore, doesn’t know how to categorise what’s ‘relevant’ and what’s ‘important’ and what’s ’something he should pay attention to’ and what’s ‘can be discarded’.

He’s doing better, at least. Mentally. Not all there, of course, not  _ really _ , but at least he’s less… standing on the edge of a cliff staring into the void and more… climbing down into it. But, like,  _ safely.  _

Gods, that’s an awful metaphor. He’s never been good at those either. (Sasha was, for a certain value of ‘good’, but thinking about her hurts  _ more  _ than  _ most  _ things do, so he tries not to, sometimes.)

That’s  _ still  _ not really the point. Not… not  _ really _ , or at least not right now. 

Zolf  _ notices _ , is the thing. He might not be able to do anything with it, not really, because, well,  _ see above _ , but. Hamid’s not as subtle as he thinks he is - or maybe he’s not trying to be subtle, and it just took Zolf longer than he thought to catch on. Whatever it is, Hamid’s acting… weird,  _ specifically _ weird toward Zolf, and Zolf doesn’t know… what he did? He  _ knows  _ Hamid’s mad at him, or at least  _ frustrated  _ with him, for something, and hell, there’s a whole long laundry list somewhere of “Reasons To Be Mad At Zolf,” but… he’s not sure how to  _ fix  _ it. Or what set it off. Which straw broke the camel’s back, as it were. 

Anyways.  _ This  _ is the point. 

The point is that Hamid’s being weird and frosty, and Zolf  _ thinks _ he knows what he did, but he’s been wrong before, and Hamid is… okay, so, Sasha was easy to apologize to, because on an intrinsic level they  _ got  _ how each other worked. Both a little more awkward than the rest, both still trying to figure out all the different intricacies of interaction and feelings, but not with each other. 

He. He wishes she were here. Gives himself a second to fall into that, to let that thought sit, and then he pushes it down, because she’s  _ not  _ here, and it’s just one more thing he has to bear. 

The  _ point  _ is that Zolf is… different, but not  _ really  _ different, like. He’s changed, obviously, they all have, but it’s like there was a puzzle he fit into before, and now he’s having to re-evaluate all of that to see where he should  _ actually  _ be. New dynamics to figure out, new tells to learn… Zolf’s done it before, many times, but it doesn’t get  _ easier  _ over time _.  _

Azu’s relatively quick to figure out, mostly because she wears her heart on her sleeve and values  _ trying _ above all else. Zolf’s like that. He can be earnest. Awkward but earnest, that’s him. S’what Feryn used to say, back before, well. Before. Good a description as any, he supposes.

Cel’s not.  _ Easy _ isn’t the word, not like Azu, but it’s sort of like how it was with Sasha. A sort of mutual understanding between them about things like feelings and emotions and trauma that they don’t  _ really  _ need to talk out, because, well. They get it. 

Hamid is. 

Hamid. 

Hmm. 

The thing is, Zolf  _ knows  _ Hamid, or at least knew how he used to be, back before eighteen months separated them, and he  _ knows  _ Hamid’s changed, and he’s  _ proud  _ of how much Hamid has changed, but that also means… he’s had to re-evaluate a few things. And that’s fine, he - he’s alright with that,  _ really _ , because he could  _ see  _ how incredible Hamid could be, even back then, even if he wasn’t the best at expressing it. 

Gods, this  _ still  _ isn’t even the point. The point is that everything is off-kilter and weird, and Zolf had expected some awkward uneasiness and miscommunication since Wilde  _ told  _ him that Hamid was back, and would be coming to work with them, but this is… more, somehow. Worse. Less awkward and uneasy and more distrusting and standoffish. 

It started with the cell. Well, Zolf _thinks_ it did. He’s not great at this part, at the picking apart a narrative and trying to find just _where_ things went wrong, but he thinks it started with the cell. It at least started _after_ the cell, but a lot of that time is muddy for him, because he can’t very well blame Hamid or Azu for not being _super_ forgiving for being chucked into an anti-magic prison for a week. 

Hamid  _ hesitates _ , is the thing. Stands stiff as a board when Zolf wraps his arms around him, arms only briefly coming up to wrap around Zolf’s back before falling back to his side. His face is… well, guarded is  _ really _ the only word for it. Zolf  _ notices  _ it _ ,  _ he notices  _ most _ things, but. Well, it’s the whole difference between seeing something and  _ doing  _ something about it again. 

Plus, he’d - he’d not really catalogued it as an issue at the time, because gods know  _ he _ wouldn’t be in the best headspace after being stuck in a cell for a week. He’d just… chalked it up to an understandable reticence and helped Hamid and Azu on their way, doing his best to leave them alone while trying to hide how happy he was to see Hamid again.

(He hadn’t thought the hesitation was because, after everything, Hamid just  _ didn’t like him.  _ That particular option just… hadn’t been on the table.

… Maybe it should have been.)

It happens again in Cel’s village, when Hamid acts instinctively and casts Hold Person on Cel instead of letting them  _ talk about it _ , and that's when Zolf realises Hamid’s more tightly wound about everything than he thought he was. Zolf  _ tries  _ to defuse the situation the only way he knows how, but. Well, the whole  _ talking  _ thing is an issue, again, because  _ gods,  _ it always is, and then Hamid’s defending himself, and Zolf hadn’t even been  _ trying  _ to attack him in the first place, but it’s like every word he says has the  _ opposite  _ reaction of what he wants, and Hamid just. Gives up, eventually, face turning to stone as he looks at Zolf, and Zolf lets it go with one more quiet apology that Hamid doesn't seem to care to hear. 

_ Strike one _ , he supposes. 

The week in Cel’s village is… tense, to say the least, because Zolf is always tense when they’re in the middle of a quarantine, even if this one is less… typical. Hamid seems… restless, almost, the entire time that they’re there. Zolf tries to ask, tries to be there for Hamid, but he just gets brushed off - albeit in a nice way, Hamid’s not  _ rude,  _ at least not outwardly, not  _ really _ \- and Zolf spends most of his time helping the civilians fortify the town for lack of anything else to do. 

They don’t talk much. Hamid’s mostly hanging out and helping Azu, and Zolf’s got one eye on Cel and one eye on the job, so neither of them really make an effort to clear the air. 

And then they get sent out on a mission, and the time for introspective conversations needs to be queued for a later date.

That doesn’t mean they’re not on edge with each other, still. Hamid casts dancing lights when they finally make it into Shoin’s base without dashing the ship on the rocks, and Zolf  _ knows  _ he snaps at him without meaning to, but every cell in his body is tense and scared and  _ stressed _ , and it’s not an excuse but it’s  _ something.  _ And then Hamid responds, and he’s  _ hurt _ , and Zolf tries to apologize again but something just… doesn’t click, and he and Hamid spend the rest of the trek inside in an uncertain, sad silence. 

_ Strike two _ . 

(Hamid does hug him back after they get separated, though. Zolf had let Azu have the first hug, because he can tell how much her stress levels skyrocketed when Hamid vanished from their sight, how she watched him leave, and he feels his own bones settle a bit as he watches the tension bleed from her body. Zolf wraps him in a hug as well, tight, trying to convey everything he can’t say into that little motion, and Hamid hugs  _ back _ , and the relief sweeps through his veins. It’s a little embarrassing, honestly, but Zolf lets himself have this one; it’s the first time since Hamid’s gotten back that he’s actually felt like things could get back to how they were before.)

He reaches out to clap Hamid on the shoulder after exiting Shoin’s, and Hamid… slips away before he can make contact. It reminds Zolf uncomfortably of Hamid shying away from him anytime he’d try to heal him back in Paris, and his hand falls to his side with a quiet thump as he swallows around the lump that’s formed in his throat. Hamid goes to talk with Azu instead, too quiet for Zolf to hear, and Zolf might not be the best with emotions but he can clearly read the irritation and desire to not be near him from here, and he’s not an  _ arse,  _ so he goes to talk to Cel instead.

They’re good for a distraction. And Zolf  _ does  _ need to chat with them, clear up some things, and then they  _ do,  _ and, gods, Zolf wishes it were that easy with everyone. Barnes and Carter are nice to focus on as well, and if Zolf keeps talking to them and teasing Barnes for somehow getting a shirt with an  _ even deeper  _ V-cut than he’d had the last time they’d seen each other, well. Doesn’t need to think about other things, does he?

And then they argue,  _ again _ , on the way back, except Zolf wasn’t  _ trying  _ to make it a fight, he’s just trying to keep people  _ safe _ , and that just makes it  _ worse,  _ he - gods, and even Azu was disappointed in him, and he just wanted to  _ help _ but. He doesn’t know how to explain the look Wilde gets everytime someone comes back safe from a mission, doesn’t know how to catalogue exactly what it feels like to run into someone you used to  _ trust  _ and see them with blue veins slowly spreading across their skin. Doesn’t know how to  _ really  _ show them how terrified he is from this entire situation, because it’s just one  _ more  _ time that the fate of the world rests on their backs, and Zolf can feel the strain. 

The mission is the most important thing. Zolf gets that. But… his  _ friends,  _ the people he cares about, they’re inextricably tied up with him in ways he doesn’t care to separate, and if it came down to it, he knows which one he’s picking. It’s just - he doesn’t how to  _ explain  _ that, how to tell them that he’s not trying to be a dick, he’s just… he’s just trying to  _ protect  _ everyone. 

Azu looks disappointed, when he tries to tell Hamid that this could get them all  _ killed,  _ and his throat closes up when he tries to explain that he’s  _ terrified  _ of being alone again, of having to watch more people he cares about get hurt, and he can’t  _ say  _ anything and Azu just keeps looking at him with that disappointed look and it  _ hurts.  _

_ Strike three _ .

They get back soon enough, and Zolf can  _ feel  _ how much Hamid is avoiding him, and the worst part is that he can’t really blame him, anymore. Except. They all need to be quarantined, because Wilde hasn’t gotten as far as he has by being cautious, which means Zolf gets to be stuck in a small space with five other people for a week, one of whom doesn’t want to talk to him, one who’s disappointed in him, one who he thinks needs some comforting, and two others who have just… less than a single idea about any of this (it’s not their  _ fault,  _ obviously, but they still don’t know because they weren’t  _ there). _

A week in quarantine… doesn’t help - not like Zolf ever expected it to. Barnes is more-or-less fine; he’s always been polite, and he gets on well with the rest of them. Carter is another story, what with the history between himself and Azu and Hamid, and Azu won’t stop glaring at him. Zolf’s glad that Wilde’s left the cell open so that they can at least go to opposite sides of the basement and avoid each other. 

That’s mostly how the week goes. Hamid and Azu sit on one side of the room, Barnes and Carter take over the other, and Zolf and Cel stay as the de facto intermediaries between the two. 

But that’s - that’s not the  _ point _ of this, it’s just something that seemed to exacerbate the whole situation. Zolf had wanted to have a conversation about it, but Hamid and Azu seemed more reticent to talk with Barnes and Carter there, and he can’t blame them. 

Nothing really happens in the cell. Maybe something should have, because  _ hell _ , being locked up for a week with no one being able to escape is the perfect time for some difficult conversations. But everyone mostly keeps their space, and talks about the mission and debriefs and doesn’t talk about anything silly to do with emotions and anger and regret and guilt. 

And then they get out, and things go just back to the way they were, with Zolf trying to tiptoe around Hamid and then  _ just  _ making it worse, and with each mission they get sent on, he seems to somehow stick his foot in his mouth  _ more,  _ and he just wants to  _ tell  _ Hamid and Azu and Cel that he’s this way because he can’t shove the emotions and panic out of his body in any meaningful way, and - 

Wilde says he should talk to Hamid, when Zolf asks him about it. Which, by the way, thanks for the  _ incredible _ idea, really, Zolf  _ never  _ thought about that before. Talking. A truly novel concept. Wilde ignores all his sarcasm, tells him to get over himself and talk to Hamid, and Zolf… okay, Zolf knows he needs to, but he’s so  _ scared  _ that having a conversation about it will make it  _ worse, _ and then - 

Wilde talks him through the spiral, that night, and Zolf is grateful for it. He also knows Wilde is  _ right _ , but he isn’t going to  _ tell  _ him. (Wilde, thankfully,

doesn’t comment on the fact that Zolf is already in too deep caring about the team. Zolf’s grateful for that too.)

So. A conversation. Zolf can - in  _ theory _ , he can do a conversation. In  _ practice,  _ he knows he’s going to end up stumbling all over himself and struggling to express just  _ why  _ he’s like this. Why every instance of him trying to care, trying to  _ protect _ , comes out… not  _ wrong _ , exactly, but not the way he  _ wants  _ it to, and just - ugh. 

What  _ hurts _ is that sometimes Zolf sees glimpses of it. Of what they’d had before, and it  _ burns  _ in his chest, because Hamid will smile at him one moment and he’ll think that maybe he was making some progress, maybe Hamid understood Zolf better, maybe they could - and then Hamid would back away again, give Zolf the cold shoulder, and Zolf just… backs off, because if Hamid wants space, Zolf isn’t going to force him to speak. He’s not an  _ arse,  _ he knows how to respect boundaries.

(Sometimes, he thinks about back in Prague, when Hamid said that he didn’t believe in much, but that he believed in Zolf, and he’s never felt worthy of the title, of the  _ honor _ , but… he doesn’t think Hamid feels that way about him anymore, and even if he didn’t think he deserved it, he does miss it. 

But then he looks at how Hamid looks at Azu, and he looks at how  _ unequivocally  _ good Azu is, at how she shines through everything she does, and he thinks he gets it a little. He’s glad Hamid found someone else he could believe in, like that. That position was never meant for Zolf, and the thought  _ hurts _ , but it’s not like it’s  _ wrong.) _

The fact is, Zolf doesn’t know what to do, and it  _ sucks,  _ because he considered himself and Hamid friends, at the very least, but maybe -  _ maybe  _ \- Hamid never did, just thought of them as colleagues, and Zolf was making the rest of it up in his head. But he doesn’t know how to  _ fix  _ it, and he just wants to  _ know  _ so that he  _ can  _ try and fix it, instead of the two of them sitting in this awkward cycle of confusion and fighting and apologising and then circling all the way around again. 

(And, gods, Zolf  _ knows  _ he’s not entitled to anything from Hamid, not after he left in Prague and then came back having helped toss him in a cell, but he’d at least  _ thought… _ he doesn’t know. Maybe it’s all stupid, and he’s reading way too far into this when Hamid’s just… changed. That’s a possibility, he knows, that Hamid’s moved on and grown and doesn’t  _ need _ Zolf anymore - not that he ever did, but the point still stands. Maybe it really  _ is  _ that Hamid just doesn’t like him, but Zolf remembers a hotel room in Paris and Hamid clutching his hand and it being the closest thing he’s ever had to a lifeline, and thinks that Hamid  _ must  _ have considered him a friend once.

Right?)

He just - doesn’t know what to  _ do _ about it. Everything he says seems to be the wrong thing, and Azu wasn’t wrong, Zolf is  _ bad _ at talking, but there are so many emotions that he’s fighting with at all times, too many he knows how to deal with, and he doesn’t know how to separate  _ these ones  _ from  _ those ones  _ (but,  _ gods _ , that’s not the  _ point _ ) and he doesn’t know how to… solve it. How to explain himself to Hamid, how to listen to the reason behind why Hamid seems so… different. 

Look. Zolf’s not  _ stupid,  _ he didn’t expect Hamid to come back and be the same slightly-snivelling rich boy who had just gotten a taste for how the world really worked (although, honestly, Hamid hadn’t been that way for long). He knew that Hamid would change. He just… didn’t think  _ he  _ would be one of the things left behind, even though he knows he left. The thing is, he  _ wanted  _ Hamid to grow. He saw  _ all  _ that space for potential, saw how incredible he could be, and it seems like Hamid is finally coming into it, being the leader he always could, but. There’s not a space for Zolf anymore. 

And that’s  _ fine,  _ really, it’s just - well. Zolf kind of misses him, is all. Wishes they could find a way to get back… well, not back to what they were before, not  _ really _ , but as everyone knows Zolf isn’t great with the whole conversation thing and Hamid is. Stubborn. 

He still wants to fix it, he just… doesn’t know how. And that’s  _ really  _ the crux of the issue. It’s one thing to  _ notice  _ that Hamid is acting, well, a bit more frosty to him than he did back in Paris, it’s another to… do something about it. Zolf’s never really been one for emotional conversations, has always preferred to let things run their course and bury them down until they didn’t  _ hurt  _ anymore, but this is… different. Because they  _ were  _ friends, back then, at least he’d always thought they were, and he wants to be friends  _ again _ but he… okay, so he can see point A, which is where they are, and then point B, which is where he wants them to get, but the entire middle of it is so bogged down with confusion and misunderstanding that he doesn’t even  _ know  _ where to begin.

Gods. Maybe he should just write it all down in a letter and drop it in front of Hamid’s door and fuck off somewhere until he’s ready to talk. Writing is… easier than talking, anyway. You have less space to be awkward in a letter, and you can actually  _ think  _ about what you want to say. But there’s just as much space to be misconstrued and misinterpreted in a letter, so Zolf thinks that if  _ anything  _ productive is going to happen, he’s going to have to do it the hard way. 

Which is why he’s been standing outside the door of Hamid’s room for the past 30 minutes. Cel had come by at one point, looked from the door to Zolf and back again, and they’d given him a thumbs up and a smile before continuing on their way. He thinks he hears explosions coming from their room, but they’re  _ quieter  _ than he’s used to, so he doesn’t think he has cause for concern yet. 

Zolf takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, and lifts his hand. His knuckles rap on the door, louder than he meant it to be, and internally winces, because  _ everything  _ seems to be setting him off recently. He hears some shuffling around inside, and then the doorknob turns, pulled open to reveal Hamid on the other side. His curls are… looser, than he’s used to seeing, and his face is strangely devoid of makeup. 

“Oh, Zolf,” Hamid says, sounding a bit surprised to see him outside his door. He opens the door a bit wider and Zolf sees Azu sitting in there with him, cross legged as she sits on the sofa. “Is there something you need?”

“Sorry, I didn’t - er, didn’t know that you and Azu were speaking,” Zolf says, for lack of anything else, and  _ gods,  _ all of his determination just flew out the window the second a singular detail deviated from how he’d envisioned this going. 

“Yes, we were just chatting,” Hamid says, and the tone is friendly enough, but Hamid’s like that with  _ everyone _ , isn’t he? Just. He’s  _ nice,  _ and polite, and doesn’t… Hamid knows how to talk, and Zolf might be a bit jealous of it right now, because knowing how to talk would make this easier. “Did you want to come in?” 

He doesn’t move away from the door, though, doesn’t give Zolf any  _ space,  _ and it’s back to that again, Zolf being a puzzle piece who has no idea where he fits in or if this is even the correct puzzle. 

“No, that’s - don’t want to impose. Just wanted to, er - dinner’s going to be ready, soon?” he says, lamely, and Hamid nods. 

“Thank you, erm -“ he looks back in at Azu, but she’s already got her nose buried in a book. It’s a Campbell, and one of Zolf’s favorites, actually. “...Was there anything else?” Hamid asks, and either he’s not as good at hiding his feelings as Zolf always thought he was, or he doesn’t  _ care  _ enough to hide that he doesn’t completely trust Zolf anymore, which. Which.

It’s fine. It’s  _ fine.  _

“Right, sorry, er - I’ll - night,” Zolf stammers, and Hamid doesn’t say anything in response, just waits for Zolf to back out of the doorway, and then the door shuts in his face. Zolf takes another step back, and another, until his back is against the wall, and… doesn’t slide down it, not really, just. Standing there for a second, staring at the door, and wondering if he could figure out just where he went wrong to make Hamid this… disinterested. 

He doesn’t  _ blame  _ Hamid, is the thing. It’s not his fault that Zolf left for eighteen months (two months? Time is… weird), but it just… Zolf knows he lost Sasha, and that thought will never not cause him pain, and Hamid is  _ here,  _ but he still feels like he lost him too. And it’s - it’s not even that Hamid is different, because Zolf can deal with that, Zolf was  _ expecting  _ that, when Wilde told him that they were coming back, but this is just - he keeps going back to it, this question of  _ space  _ and where he even fits. If he fits.

It doesn’t matter,  _ much.  _ Zolf still  _ cares,  _ because how can he not? Zolf’s never been good at  _ not  _ caring about someone after he’s decided to. 

(Sometimes, he thinks about Paris and a monster bearing down on them, and turning all of his friends invisible and telling them to run with the full intention of sacrificing himself to ensure their safety. He wonders if Hamid ever realised that he was trying to save all of them - wonders if doing the same now would be met with understanding. He’s not  _ going  _ to, because he’s not that self-sacrificial, but maybe Hamid just doesn’t  _ realise  _ that Zolf’s trying to show he cares, he’s just… bad at it, sometimes.)

Gods. It’s all just… a mess, innit? A right mess, one Zolf doesn’t know how to fix. 

And then.  _ And then.  _

He and Hamid hear from Wilde that they’re getting sent out on a mission together. Zolf is… less enthused than he would normally be, considering nearly every conversation he’s had with Hamid recently has been, well. Unproductive. Surface-level friendly, both of them tip toeing on eggshells around the other and somehow still cracking every single one. Being out on a mission without Azu or Cel to disrupt the tension - not Zolf’s  _ favorite  _ idea how to spend a few days. Back before all this, before the hug and the village and Shoin’s, back before Zolf realised just how  _ different  _ everything looked… he’d have been excited. Now, he just resigns himself to a few days of minimal conversation and laser focus on the mission.

He glances over, and Hamid doesn’t look too eager either, casting worried looks over at Azu. Neither of them like being separated, and Azu looks just as displeased as he does, but Wilde makes his case and the both of them seem to at least settle a bit. 

Zolf doesn’t blame them for being reluctant. Going through something like that, together… he wouldn’t want to be separated from that person, either. 

So they go on the mission together, and it’s just as awkward as Zolf expected, just as awkward as it can be for two people who maybe-kinda-sorta used to be friends (at least, Zolf thinks they were), but they get it done in short time. Turns out the mission is just them teetering on the edge of a breaking point, which Zolf maybe would have realised had he been paying attention to anything other than trying not to make Hamid even more uncomfortable around him. Hamid just… seems so  _ unsure  _ around him the entire time, and everything is tense and awful, and they succeed, but they have an entire week stuck in a cell together when they get back. 

Azu and Cel are out on another mission - they always switch up the teams, another idea Wilde came up with to try and keep people safe, and they should be back in a few days. But, until then, Zolf and Hamid are just. Here. Sitting in an awkward silence broken only by Zolf turning the pages of his favorite Campbell book. 

Turns out this is the breaking point. Well, as much as it can be, because breaking points are big and angry and vicious and  _ loud,  _ but this is… quiet and indifferent, and Zolf hates how  _ hopeless  _ it feels. 

“Was it something I did?” Zolf asks, eventually, too tired for the pretense anymore, and Hamid turns to look at him. His scales, slowly creeping down his neck and across his collarbone, glint in the small window of moonlight coming into the cell. He looks  _ confused,  _ as well, but Zolf thinks that he can detect just a hint of guilt at the edges of it. But. (Gods, there’s always a  _ but.)  _ He doesn’t know  _ how  _ to read Hamid anymore, so maybe he’s full of it. 

“What do you mean?” Hamid asks, but he curls up on himself, and Zolf can read the tension in every line of his body. 

“You know what I -“ he cuts himself off, because he’s  _ doing it again,  _ the whole bad-at-talking thing, and he stops, and sighs, and the entire time Hamid isn’t looking at him. “I’m sorry,” he says, and the familiar feeling of his throat closing around his words is back again, but at least he can apologise. “For - dunno, whatever I did. For being…like this. Doing whatever I did to make you stop trusting me.”

Gods, it sounds so  _ stupid  _ when he puts it like that.

“What -“ Hamid turns to face him, finally, confusion plain in his eyes, and the  _ hurt  _ in his voice is like a sucker punch to Zolf’s gut. “When did I stop trusting you?”

“I mean, the constant cold shoulder was a bit of a hint,” Zolf says, but it’s not  _ mean _ as much as it is  _ hurt,  _ and by the way Hamid flinches and turns away again, he knows it’s not something he imagined. 

“I -“ Hamid starts, and he might be good at talking, but he’s less good at it when it’s about  _ himself,  _ so Zolf feels like they might be on a more even playing ground, now. “I do trust you, Zolf. I just..” he trails off. “A lot has  _ happened,  _ and it’s - everything’s so different now.” 

Zolf leans his head back against the wall of the cell and stares up at the ceiling. “We are, too,” he says, because the difference is  _ palpable _ , between who they are now, and who they used to be, and it all feels so… out of reach, somehow. He wants to move forward, wants them to  _ get past this,  _ wants to be able to get back to whatever passes as  _ normalcy _ between them, he just… doesn’t know  _ how.  _

“I’m not - it’s been  _ months _ , Zolf,” Hamid says, quiet, and Zolf winces a bit at the… careful neutrality in his tone. “I just need to get  _ used  _ to this again.”

Zolf doesn’t say anything about how it’s been nearly a month, now. Doesn’t say that this is about as long as they’d had before he  _ left _ , and he’d love to know what’s changed  _ this  _ time around. Doesn’t want to ask, because even if his brain keeps peppering the fact all around at the most inconvenient times, he doesn’t  _ actually  _ want to hear Hamid say that he just… doesn’t like him.

“I don’t  _ like  _ fighting with you,” Hamid says, voice quiet as he wraps his arms around his legs. “It’s - you  _ are  _ my friend, Zolf, and I trust you, but sometimes…” he breathes out a frustrated sigh, and buries his head in his arms. “Sometimes, I think you look at me and see the same person I was when we met, as though I can’t do anything  _ right.”  _

“I don’t want to fight, either,” Zolf says, as quiet as Hamid has been, and it’s  _ true.  _ He and Hamid disagree on some… fundamental concepts, they always have, but it’s never felt like it has recently. It’s never felt like they were both coming from completely opposite sides with no intention of meeting in the middle, but lately that’s the only way it’s felt. 

Hamid huffs a soft laugh. “It’s just… you can’t just  _ tell  _ me not to do something? It’s - I’m not  _ trying  _ to do things wrong, you know.”

“No, I do, I just -“ _was_ _scared,_ Zolf tries to say, but of course it never comes out when he wants to. “I - it’s - I get… worried,” he says, and Hamid sighs, but it sounds more fond than frustrated. 

“I know,” he says, and maybe Hamid doesn’t hate him after all, maybe they just don’t always  _ communicate  _ right but he still  _ cares  _ about him, at least a little bit. “We might be different, but there are some things that have stayed the same.” 

“Azu said I’m bad at talking,” Zolf says, with a self-deprecating little laugh, and Hamid laughs  _ with  _ him, not  _ at  _ him. “She was right.”

“She usually is,” Hamid responds, a fond little smile on his face, the one that he always gets when he thinks about Azu, and Zolf thinks that he’s starting to do the same as well. 

“I’m sorry,” Zolf says, again, because he thinks he needs to, and he might not be good at talking but sometimes he hits on that little vein that makes him spill over. “I - I was so excited to see you, when you got back, and then everything was so awkward for a while, I just - I didn’t want to lose you, again. You or Azu. Or Cel, when we met them. And I knew… well, not  _ how  _ bad Shoin was, but I had… an idea? I just. I wanted everyone to be safe. I don’t - I don’t like losing people.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Hamid says, quiet. “I - I didn’t mean to make you think I didn’t  _ care,  _ I just… everything’s been so much to deal with, and we haven’t had a chance to sit down and  _ process  _ any of it, and I think I just… started to shut everything out. But, I - I  _ am _ sorry, Zolf.” 

The air feels.. clearer. Not in the - the cell is still damp and dingy, but between them everything feels less tense, less… less  _ strained.  _ It’s not completely back to the way it was before, not really, but Zolf doesn’t feel as though their broken edges are just bashing against each other now. This isn’t - it’s not a complete fix, but it’s a  _ start,  _ and he feels… lighter, almost. (Not to mention how relieved he is that Hamid doesn’t actually hate him after all.)

“Where, er - where do we go from here?” Zolf asks, because he knows where he  _ wants  _ it to go and he thinks he knows what he  _ needs  _ to do, but sometimes having it verbalised… helps. Especially when it’s Hamid, who’s just basically told him off for needing to be more clear about what he means (but in a nice way).

“I mean… I think we just need to listen to each other better. Does that make sense? I’m willing to try, if you are?” Hamid offers, and the metaphorical hand he extends hangs there in the silence between them. He’s - Zolf is  _ built  _ of nothing but trying. So, he shakes the hand (metaphorically, of course, because, well, Hamid’s across the cell and not nearly close enough and - ugh, Sasha was  _ so  _ much better at these).

“Yeah, I - yeah,” he says, because the second he starts  _ thinking  _ about what he’s saying is when he can’t talk anymore, but Hamid seems happy enough with it. Happy enough that he moves, comes and sits next to Zolf on the small cot, and leans back against the wall with him. They’re not touching, but there’s not a lot of space between their arms, and Zolf takes it for the joint offer of apologies and acceptance that it is. Maybe he and Hamid understand each other better than he thought they did, when both of them are actually able to have a  _ conversation  _ about it. 

It’s not… it’s not  _ everything _ , it’s not  _ perfect _ , but it’s a  _ start.  _ It’s a promise to  _ try  _ from both of them, a promise to ask instead of assuming, a promise from Hamid to try to  _ listen  _ and a promise from Zolf to try to  _ talk.  _ None of it’s going to be easy, but… they’re both willing to  _ work  _ on it, at least, and it’s a better place than they were before. 

It’s enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> something something bryn said his and bens characters don’t get on and i thought abt zolf and hamid’s dynamic and i went ‘huh’ and then i stared at the season 1 transcripts i’ve read 5x and went ‘huh’ and then i looked at how zolf has been (mostly) understanding (and slightly overbearing) and relieved to see hamid throughout season 4 and went ‘huh’ and then i looked at the letters from zolf to hamid and from zolf to bertie abt hamid and the letter from hamid to zolf and went ‘huh’ and then i thought abt how alex helen and lydia assigned them drift compatible and went “HUH” and now here we are
> 
> again, wanted to get this out b4 it happened in canon bc while i don’t *actually* interpret their dynamic this way, i like being right so i want to see if this is at least sort of the way it goes down in canon (i think that there’s gonna be a discussion in the cell but i stretched it out for purposes of this fic)


End file.
